


drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this )

by fonulyn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Denial of Feelings, Krauser has feelings and he is not happy, M/M, Oral Sex, Reluctantly catching feelings, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, brief Krauser/OC, overuse of curses and expletives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Jack Krauser
Comments: 18
Kudos: 118





	drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this )

**Author's Note:**

> ansgjkn I hope you’re not opposed to smut dear anon bc that’s what came of this… my deepest apologies lmao. this was for the prompt “always”, and I have no excuse I don’t know how my brain took it this way. but in my defense, there are also feelings?? (which Krauser is not happy about)
> 
> also the fic could as well be titled “Krauser is so in love that idiot” lol

The first time Krauser pushed Leon against a wall, he couldn’t believe his luck. Ever since he’d first laid eyes on Leon S. Kennedy he had wanted to mess him up, in the most delicious of ways. So maybe it had bordered on obsession how he’d dreamed of having those lips wrapped around him every single time he’d as much as closed his eyes, but hell, it wasn’t his fault if Kennedy was a fucking walking wet dream, a fantasy come real. 

And to realize the real thing was even better than any fantasy he’d had? A part of Krauser knew he’d lose himself in whatever was brewing between them. He’d been lost the second he first fucked into that tight, willing body right there in the cheap motel room, against the wall right next to the door. At least they’d made it inside the room, and that was all because of Leon. 

“Fucking hell,” Krauser got out through gritted teeth, his self-control in tethers already. He leaned in and pressed his face into Leon’s neck, bit hard in the curve where it met the shoulder. “I want to fucking _destroy_ you.” If he’d had the presence of mind to realize how needy he sounded he might’ve felt a flash of embarrassment over that, but he had better things to focus on right now. Leon was hot and tight and _perfect_ , and Krauser snapped his hips forward so hard the painting of a windmill rattled in its hook next to them. 

Leon met the thrust with a strangled outcry, but contrarily to how the fantasy-Leon had always acted in Krauser’s mind, he didn’t go soft and pliant and just take what he was given. No. He was the bossiest, most demanding person Krauser had ever slept with. Not only did he push back to meet every single one of the harsh thrusts, but even _laughed_ at the words that spilled from Krauser. 

“You’re all talk,” Leon breathed out when Krauser slowed down for a bit, and the grin he threw over his shoulder was nothing short of infuriating, “don’t promise things you can’t give.”

“Yeah?” Krauser growled. He used one arm to push Leon’s shoulders firmly into the wall, kept him immobilized so that there was no leverage he could get to move like he had just a second earlier. His other hand he brought to the small of Leon’s back, forcing him to curve his spine as he was handled to the position Krauser wanted him in. “Remember,” Krauser smirked, “you asked for it.”

Then he slammed forward. Again and again. He set a punishing pace, so hard that sweat was dripping off him, soaking into the shirt he was still wearing, droplets falling onto Leon’s back. And a distant part of him might’ve thought he was actually hurting Leon with the brutal nailing, had it not been for the very vocal response that left no room for doubts on how much they were both enjoying this. 

All too soon a raw cry tore its way from Leon’s throat as he came hard over the wall, without even being touched. Krauser didn’t even slow down, not before the final, near violent snap of his hips that sent him over the edge.

Next to them, the painting clattered to the floor

*

It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. And Krauser refused to feel any shame for it. It wasn’t the first casual relationship he’d had and wouldn’t be the last, and as long as he got to semi-regularly nail Leon into the mattress – or the nearest wall, or a table, who was picky? – he was damn sure going to keep coming back for more.

And that wasn’t even all of it. Leon was damn near magical with his mouth, and Krauser had no fucking idea how the hell Leon could reduce him to a needy, shivering mess with his tongue alone. Not that he’d admit it out loud, not to anyone, not even to Leon. Especially not to Leon. 

So it was all about sex. It was about getting off, in various different positions, as many times as they could manage in a night. Or in fifteen minutes, depending on what they’d been able to squeeze in. 

“C’mon,” Krauser urged, slipping his fingers into the blond strands of hair, “you can take more. Or do you need help down there, _comrade_?” He smirked down at Leon, who would’ve already told him to fuck off if he could’ve. Now though? Leon was blessedly occupied by several inches of Krauser’s rock hard dick, and there was no way he could speak around that. 

Krauser used that to his advantage, a thrill running up his spine as he twisted his fingers into Leon’s hair and pulled a little, rewarded by a low groan in the back of Leon’s throat. “Was that a yes? You do need help?” he asked, and laughed throatily as again no answer was forthcoming. He took the yes, anyway, and used the tight grip he had of Leon’s hair to guide him further down his cock. “That’s it. That’s good.”

As if in retaliation Leon made a swallowing motion, his throat constricting around Krauser’s erection, and for a second all Krauser saw was white as the pleasure shot through him, bringing him teetering dangerously close to his orgasm. Somehow he managed to pull himself back from it, mouth hanging open and breaths coming in short gasps.

And when he looked down, it was clear triumph he saw in Leon’s cool blue eyes. 

Fucking hell. 

The look alone could’ve sent Krauser tumbling over the edge but then Leon repeated his action, and it was game over. Krauser came in hot spurts down Leon’s throat, his knees buckling with the force of his orgasm. And throughout it all he couldn’t stop staring into those blue, blue eyes as if he’d been fucking hypnotized. 

Afterwards, when neither of them could honestly even move a single muscle anymore, Krauser kept lying awake in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling. Leon had passed out practically the second his head hit the pillow, and was out cold, unaware of everything going on around him. Unaware of the existential crisis he had thrown Krauser into with a fucking _blowjob_ of all things.

It was just sex, Krauser told himself. Just really, really good sex. With someone really, really gorgeous. Who happened to like the same things he did, who was fierce and demanding, who gave as good as he got, who kept surprising Krauser with every single meeting they had even after all of this time. 

There was something about the way Leon could be both vulnerable and unbreakable at the same time that kept pulling Krauser in. 

Throughout the night, Krauser didn’t sleep a wink.

*

Three days after his sleepless night filled with uncomfortable epiphanies, Krauser went to the first bar he found and picked up the first person he found attractive. Sure the man had good legs, blue-grey eyes and light hair, but that didn’t mean anything. It was just the type Krauser found attractive, and everyone had a type, there was nothing deep about that. Nothing.

Then Krauser was balls-deep in the man, whose name he hadn’t even bothered to memorize, and suddenly it felt _wrong_. The way the man moved, the way he sounded, the way he looked… it was all different and it was all wrong and it was nothing Krauser wanted. He tried closing his eyes, tried to just focus on the sensations, because fucking hell, a warm hole was a warm hole, he could get off with anyone. 

Except less than five minutes later Krauser was zipping up his pants, literally fleeing the hotel room, ignoring the questions and curses that were shouted after him. 

Without looking back, Krauser walked until he found another bar. This time he didn’t even look at anyone else but ordered himself a row of shots, downing every single one of them without hesitation. Only when he was so smashed drunk he could barely walk, swaying dangerously with every single step, he could forget the mortifying feeling in his chest when his heart had been screaming at him for picking up that stranger. 

Another twinge of guilt sparked somewhere in the pit of his stomach and Krauser grabbed the first bottle of liquor he could reach over the counter, threw some bills on the counter for compensation without even counting them, and proceeded to empty the bottle in the closest empty booth he managed to drag himself into. 

What the fuck, Krauser thought, had his life become. As much as he tried to think nothing at all, he couldn’t get rid of the blue eyes that kept haunting him. “Get out of my head, Leon,” he slurred out, probably so garbled that no one near him could understand a word. 

What they did understand though was the entire row of curses that Krauser got out before he doubled over, threw up the contents of his stomach all over the floor, and promptly passed out with the empty bottle still in his grip.

*

Of course, after Krauser sobered up, he pretended like nothing had happened. As far as he was considered nothing _had_ happened. Nothing needed to change and the next time they’d meet up they’d continue having great sex. Nothing more, nothing less. So when Leon messaged him with an address Krauser already knew was a motel, he didn’t hesitate.

When he got to the motel Leon was already waiting for him, standing in the middle of the room, grinning at him like he knew how much Krauser had hurried to be there on time. The first instinct for Krauser was to shut him up, preferably with his dick, so determinedly he strode forward and grabbed a hold of the blond strands of hair, leaning in to scrape his teeth over the side of that gorgeous neck. 

“Right for the jugular,” Leon laughed, the sound turning into a low moan as he tilted his head a little, offered up more soft skin to be marked. “That is so like you, Jack.” He sounded like he was both amused and turned on, and his hands had already found their way to Krauser’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. 

A snarky remark was already on the tip of Krauser’s tongue, ready to be fired, but when he pulled back he stopped in his tracks. He shifted his hand, his thumb brushing down to Leon’s cheek, and there it was again. That strange twinge in his chest. The feeling that he’d tried to drown in alcohol and thought he’d successfully murdered. 

“Jesus, Leon. Your…” _eyes, eyes eyes eyes_ , the blue flame that kept burning into the deepest darkest corners of Krauser’s heart, had melted something that he had already thought was frozen forever, if it existed at all. But admitting that out loud? There was a better chance for Hell freezing over than for Krauser saying those words. So he dropped his gaze down, brushed his thumb from Leon’s cheek to his lips, dipping it between them. “…mouth.”

Either Leon didn’t notice the hesitation or he simply didn’t care, as all he did was grin. “Want me to suck you off?” he asked, the words unclear because Krauser hadn’t withdrawn his finger and Leon had to form the words around it. Not that he minded, obviously. Quite the contrary, he even teasingly flicked his tongue up the pad of Krauser’s thumb, as if to show what he was talking about. 

“No,” Krauser got out, almost choking on the single word. Somehow he managed to get a grip, though, and pulled his hand back to grab Leon’s jaw between his palms. Without another word he yanked him in and crashed their mouths together. Leon gasped into it, but it only took a couple of seconds for him to catch up, and soon enough he was kissing back with fervor. 

As often as they’d slept together, this was still somewhat an uncharted territory. They didn’t usually kiss a lot. Hell, they’d fucked facing each other less than half a dozen times. But now Krauser couldn’t stop. And Leon didn’t seem to mind. 

Even when Leon’s legs were wrapped around Krauser’s hips, his heels digging into the small of Krauser’s back, and there was no air left in Krauser’s lungs to even fucking breathe properly, he kept on kissing him. It meant sacrificing some of his leverage, kept the thrusts short, but as best as he could Krauser kept on slamming into the willing body beneath his, time and time again. 

As he was nearing his climax, Krauser reached out and placed his palm on top of Leon’s on the mattress. Later on he would claim that no one in their right mind could produce a clear thought at a moment like that. He may have done it, but he certainly didn’t mean anything by it. He wasn’t a guy who did something sappy as fuck like _handholding_ during a good fuck.

Whatever it was, whatever his excuses, the fact remained.

Krauser laced his fingers with Leon’s. And held on. Even after they were lying spent in a sweaty heap of limbs, he didn’t let go. Even when he listened to the heavy, deep breaths Leon took while fast asleep, he didn’t let go. 

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?


End file.
